


Under My Over

by silver gambit (ayunda)



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Complete, F/M, Psychological Trauma, Slice of Life, Tradicomedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayunda/pseuds/silver%20gambit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only so much blame to go around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roadkills For Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Based on _To The Moon_ , this is for the _Inspirational Contest_ , hosted by _Link's Little Brother_ and _Psychic Prince_ from Fanfiction.net.

｡.•°•.｡Ʋnder ℳy ☯ver｡.•°•.｡

Every nerve in his body urged him to turn his motorbike around. From his earpiece, O'Donnell heard a large number repeat over and over again. He found himself imagining the digits lining side by side, all those zeros extending his doubts further. Racing through a dirt road at an empty grass field, he rode his way towards his latest assignment as his bike engines roared.

He couldn't wait until tonight's job was over.

Sighing, he spoke into his comm. "Lomabardi, twenty-four?"

" _Were you even listening? I said twenty-_ six _thousand, not four. Sure, our paychecks are usually pretty big, but this is a huge deal!_ "

"Sounds too good to be true if you ask me."

Lombardi scoffed. " _Just go with it; be happy for once. This time, our client happens to be super rich, so I think should get this done at least. Besides, that's gonna be a lotta cha-ching going into our pockets! Anyways, I'm almost there, so get here soon_."

"Sure. See ya."

Turning off his comm, he closed his eyes, wondering whether or not it was a good idea to trust him. He knew everything they needed was sitting behind him, strapped onto his bike, so if he didn't come, he would never hear the end of it.

No sooner than opening his eyes, he gasped. A wild, yellow creature appeared in his path. O'Donnell quickly made a sharp left turn. The bike swerved, and he held on. Trying desperately to hold the handles straight, he rushed through the grass blind. Soon, a flash of red in front made him take to the right. He drifted into a side drift, the tires scratching the dirt. Then he came into a full stop. A few seconds passed as he collected his thoughts.

Coughing out a shaky breath, he took off his helmet, brushing the sweat on his brow. Soon, he found himself being approached by a man with cobalt-blue hair and a flashy red suit, who was dusting off his clothes.

"Geezus, O'Donnell. When I said get here soon, I didn't mean try to run me over!"

He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a yellow mouse scurrying across the road. "I could've hit that thing too if I didn't do something."

Lombardi chuckled. "Says the guy with grey hair. You're like my grandpa; you both need to get your eyes checked."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you liked yellow roadkill."

"Yellow over me, old man."

O'Donnell scoffed, looking around as he noticed the fence to his right and the path leading up the cliff behind it before parking his bike on the spot. "So where are we?"

"Trion Lake." Pulling out a handheld tablet from his right pocket, Lombardi started scrolling through its screen with the flick of his finger. "From what I got, our guy apparently owns a house here at the cliff overhanging a tri-cornered lakeside. He's like others, asking for a undo, not a redux or a travel."

"Exactly, so why pay so much—"

"Still worried about that? If it makes you feel any better, I bet he'll come up a little short, so let's just do this for him anyway." Then he glanced up and down along O'Donnell's frame. "As for you, why are you dressed like that?"

He looked down at the his leather coat and slacks. "What's wrong with them?"

"And yet everyone yells at _me_ if I go casual?"

"Or it could be your clothes in general. We should get going and finish this as quickly as possible. Also, you're taking the TD up."

"Why me?"

"Would you rather be made into roadkill?"

Lombardi glared at him before heading to O'Donnell's motorcycle to unstrap the ropes bounded around a boxy machine. Then he heaved it up and trudged forward up the cliff path.

* * *

O'Donnell knew the TD was heavy—he had to carry it last week. Lombardi did it while grumbling the entire walk up. O'Donnell didn't bother to question it though, and he listened to Lombardi rambled on about how he was willing to give up his retirement days to track down where O'Donnell lived and dump the machine on his head when he least expected it, though he didn't care that much to comment.

They walked passed grass that grew in patches next to slopes, where small flowers bloomed in groups of four, each spot distant from others. It had been a while since O'Donnell came to a mountainous area, especially one that still carried a rocky-earth scent. Being used to the constant honks, stuffy smog, and flashing lights of the city, the trees let him breathe easier. Looking over to Lombardi, he could imagine what he would say about it, how old-fashioned and behind-the-times everything was here. No signal towers, no high-speed bullet trains, no skyscrapers either; it seemed out of touch with the rest of the world.

Or maybe it might have reminded Lombardi of his old hippie clients.

Not that he'd want another one.

Soon, he spotted a roof peeking out in the distance, then soon the building. Dry stone stood tall; not concrete, gypcrete, or even a metal framework. Sitting on a bench next to a couple of empty flower beds was a hunched, bald figure in a grey tunic with a cane. Albeit O'Donnell wouldn't have even noticed the man had it not been for the bright, grassy cap sitting on top of his head.

For someone who was supposed to be rich, O'Donnell would have expected something big or flashier; clothes, house, even technology…

"Would you look at that?" Lombardi said, nudging O'Donnell. "And yet you said my choice in colours were bad."

"At least his is just the hat, not head to toe."

After getting shot with a scowl, O'Donnell followed behind Lombardi as they approached him. The man in turn glanced up and gave them a smile.

"Ah, nice to see some visitors after so long. Are you two from the—"

"That'd be us," Lombardi cut in. O'Donnell raised an eyebrow as he glanced over to him, but Lombardi continued. "Which means you are Faori, right?"

"Faori's my last name, sonny." He rubbed the back of his head, staring at Lombardi's outfit. "Please, call me Link. I insist."

"Alright, F— Link. I'm Falco Lombardi, and this is my partner, Wolf—"

O'Donnell cleared his throat. " _Warren_ O'Donnell. Stop doing that."

Lombardi chuckled. "Maybe if you stopped looking like one, I might." He flashed a cheeky grin, but O'Donnell sighed and rolled his eyes.

"O'Donnell is preferred for me and Lombardi for him."

"By last names?" Link cocked his head.

 _So it is another one of those weird guys again_ , O'Donnell thought.

"Right, y'all are city folk. Why don't you two come inside, and I'll get you something to eat? Though the city's sorta nearby, you must've had a long day before coming here."

Lombardi opened his mouth, but was cut off by a stare from O'Donnell. He let out a shaky chuckle before speaking again. "Thank you. That's kind of you, sir."

As Link turned around to open the door, Lombardi looked back at him, mouthing "What could I do?" with his hands moving along. O'Donnell walked into the house without a word.

The inside was beyond what he had expected; it was all one big room. The scent of fresh bread trickled from the kitchen at the far right, a table sitting in the centre. To the left, the living room—he assumed—held its two stitched chesterfields lined face to face. With the dim glow of the candelabra hanging on the ceiling, the wooden walls carried a rustic brown—nothing like the flashy white or metal from back home.

Beside him lay two quilted, single beds. O'Donnell tapped Lombardi's shoulder, and when he turned, he saw the beds as well. Then he set down the TD next to the closer one.

"Would you two like to have?" Link asked. "Perhaps a drink? Maybe some crackers? Bread?"

O'Donnell shook his head. "Considering the time, I'd prefer if we get straight down into business. So according to my partner, you are requesting for an _Undo_?"

"Yes, if that's what you folks call it."

He pointed under the bed. Being the closest there, Lombardi searched, pulled out a chest, and opened it to find it full of gems.

"Inside should be enough for the payment, though the currency's in rupees if that's all right. What's that machine y'all brought in?"

Lombardi chuckled as he slapped it. "That is our amazing, little TD—or Transfigured Dormancy. We'll hook it up to your head once you sleep, and then we can use it to travel into your past to alter your memories. Since you asked for an _Undo_ , we're going to go in and change any traumatic memory of yours by our choosing, and the one we choose will be the one we think had the most negative effect on you."

Link nodded. "There are a few pretty bad days I wish to change, so I was hoping if y'all could change this one day when—"

"Sir, I don't think you understand," O'Donnell said. "You're not the one who gets to pick which day."

He froze. "Why not?"

O'Donnell sighed as he crossed his arms, motioning Lombardi with a flick of his head. Lombardi stood up. "We have a policy not to hand that kind of control over to clients due to potential abuse."

Link scratched his head, mumbling to himself with a raised eyebrow, but then he sighed. "If that's what you want, fine by me then."

Walking over to the bed and climbing in, Lombardi was able to start pulling wires out of the machine and strapping them onto Link's head. O'Donnell idled at the side, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers as he watched. Clients always asked; he was used to the routine by now, but every time still, he couldn't help but feel something snap in his head when they did.

As soon as Lombardi finished, Link had fallen asleep. After a few minutes, he handed O'Donnell one of the two remaining wires.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Let's get this done quickly." He took it and strapped it to the back of his head, closing his eyes and waiting with a sigh.


	2. Lady Loyal, Bachelor's Bane

A white flash blinded Lombardi for a moment as he felt the weight of his body ebb away. After a few seconds, his vision started to clear up, and he found himself looking out at a grass field stretching across the distance, a triangular lake sitting below the edge he stood on, and the hand of a red-faced O'Donnell getting crushed under his foot. It took him a few seconds to register that he was standing on a cliff.

"Lombardi, could you _not_ stand on me?"

And O'Donnell was hanging on the edge of it.

He moved his foot away, hearing O'Donnell sucking in a sharp breath before helping to pull him up with the stretch of his hand. Soon, O'Donnell was yanked back up on his feet. Then he rubbed his now-red fingers while mumbling under his breath before glaring at Lombardi.

"How exactly did you set the coordinates?" he asked, though his voice carried a deeper rumble than Lombardi would've liked.

He chuckled. "Oops?"

O'Donnell held his glare, and Lombardi found himself backing up until he eventually turned around, away from his gaze. Before him stood a building—a house, he assumed—of stacked stone with two windows staring back like plus-sign eyes. It still held its dust and cracks, but the structure remained sturdy. Walking around it, he soon beckoned O'Donnell to follow. O'Donnell ambled over and stepped in front of him.

In front of the house, he immediately spotted Link—Lombardi shuddered at the sight of his green cap—in a brown trench coat and slacks sitting down on a bench. Beside him sat an old woman in a sundress, hair with the same shade of grey as O'Donnell's tied up in a bun.

Lombardi nudged O'Donnell. "Look at that. Even Link does better with the ladies than you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me I'm supposed to take dating advice from someone who looks like he could work at a burlesque show?"

"You might as well since you look like one of those stalkers who wait at the back doors of a burlesque show."

O'Donnell rolled his eyes. "At least I didn't mess up the coordinates. Where are we?"

"I think we're at least twenty years back, if not more." He pulled out his handheld, keeping a close eye at O'Donnell's expressions. "Same location, so at least we now know Link hasn't moved residencies in a while." Blank face. "Not getting a lot of readings on this place though." Slight eyebrow twitch. Lombardi smirked. "And you didn't try to run over anyone."

And there it was, O'Donnell's scowl.

"Keep it up, and I'll make sure to get you fired soon."

"Love you too, honey."

"Dear?" they overheard Link ask, and they both turned to look. "Would you like to come to the lake with me today? It's a nice morning to go."

The woman smiled, but shook her head. "Maybe another day."

"You say that everyday."

"I guess I don't have the energy for it at the moment. Rain check, I promise."

"All right. Promise."

With a laugh, Lombardi slapped O'Donnell's shoulder. "So maybe you're not alone in the ladies' department after all."

He scowled. "Shut up."

"Are those shrubs in our garden beds, dear?" Link said. "You brought home some lovely flowers."

Lombardi stared at the flowers that stood a few feet away; he remembered how empty the beds were the first time he saw them. Now they carried four purple flowers at each of their sides with small bushes in the centre, each home to five yellow blooms. As for what kind of flowers they were, he didn't know.

"The ones on the sides are Asters and the bushes are the Sweetbriers," the woman said as if answering Lombardi's thoughts, despite the fact she hadn't noticed him standing there. Her blank expression didn't change when she turned to face Link. "I got them from the city; they have everything there. You should come with me some time."

Link shook his head. "The city's not for me. I'm sorry."

"I see." She sighed, then looked up at his head. "Don't you ever get too warm wearing that hat everyday? The weather hasn't exactly been gracious to us lately."

He shook his head again. "It's all right; I'm fine."

A moment of silence came. Then the woman rested her head on Link's shoulder as he gently placed his head on hers. They sat still in that position, letting time pass by. The woman smiled as she took Link's hand into her own and closed her eyes. The corner of Lombardi's lip curled up; it reminded him of when he had enjoyed days like that, his girl curled up beside him. O'Donnell didn't know what he was missing.

"All right, we're done here," O'Donnell said as he turned towards him. "Get a good date this time."

He couldn't resist. "Maybe I should set you up with one." Then O'Donnell groan. Lombardi chuckled as he quickly pulled out his handheld anyway and began typing in a couple of codes; he didn't want to take any chances with O'Donnell's lack of patience. "So do you want it be on roulette, or automatically heading straight towards the closest—"

"Just push the damn button already."

"All right! Geezus, no need to get so touchy."

He saw O'Donnell roll his eyes and sigh. The moment Lombardi hit enter, the ground started to pixelate and fade away, soon spreading to the sky as well. Then Lombardi watched as pixels rearranged the floor and everything else around them.

* * *

O'Donnell thought he had gotten used to it by now.

With the constant flashes of light between each time leap, he was surprised he hadn't gone blind yet, though he had a feeling his left eye was close to getting there. The first thing to hit him when colours started coming back into his line of view was a spark of blue. He allowed his vision to settle into the new pixel arrangement, soon realising he was staring at water. Glancing around, two trees stood at both sides of him. In front of him at the far end of the lake's tip—a triangular lake, he realised—was another tree.

Turning around, a cliff towered above him, almost appearing like it was touching the clouds. Albeit at ground level, Lombardi stood a few feet away, leaning against a stone head while scrolling through his handheld as usual.

"How far back did you send us?" O'Donnell asked.

"Actually, it looks like we travelled forward ten years this time. The good news is I'm getting a strong reading at this very spot."

"And the bad news?"

"Is there supposed to be bad news?"

_Force of habit,_ O'Donnell realised, but it was a comforting thought to know Lombardi had nothing else to add. The faint sound of footsteps soon caught his attention. From the right of the cliff, a figure in a tweed coat, slacks, and a green cap—he almost expected Lombardi to say something—walked forward towards their direction.

"Wait, I think we're at Trion Lake," Lombardi said while still looking down at his handheld— _no wonder_ —scrolling from its screen. O'Donnell didn't say a word as he watched Link come closer until he eventually walked up to the stone head without a moment's glance. Then Link dropped to his knees, clutching in his hands the stem of little purple flowers that bundled together like grapes on a vine.

The moment Lombardi noticed him, he shuddered for a second before walking over to O'Donnell. "He can't see us, right?"

"If you have the mode set to _Transparent_ , then yeah."

Neither said a word as they watched Link put down the flowers beside the rock—a tombstone, O'Donnell soon realised. No wonder Lombardi had a reading from there. Maybe they might be able to start making progress after all.

"It's been a while since I last came here, hasn't it?" Link said. "Not a lot has happened since the last time. Life moves on, pretty quickly at that. Did you know they use speedy trains instead of trucks anymore? I can't keep up! Guess I am stuck in the past. I miss coming here with you, like we did when we were younger. Remember when you dragged me on a hike across the entire road until we eventually found the cliff and this lake? Ya tried to push me into the water too when we got here, but you slipped and fell in instead. Good times, those days."

_Even backcountry men have their dues to pay_ , O'Donnell thought as his hand held his left arm. A sting lingered, but he knew there was nothing there, or at least, not anymore.

"Or even back when there were three of us, and we'd go exploring the city and the outback just to hide from our parents or other people, y'all always tried to put the blame on me for some reason. I didn't mind though. No matter what happened, when we got spanked for it or were stuck doing chores, you were always smiling after. Always."

Link shifted his gaze to the ground. "How does it feel being up there, watching over everything? Is it like what everyone says? That you become some angel or a ghost or something? I'll probably be joining you soon. Just wait.

"I dunno why it was always hard to admit it when you were around. Sure, I could tell ya anything, and you'd do something that magically made it all better, but maybe I was too scared. Feel free to call me a wussy. It was my fault anyway, what happened."

Then he sighed. "I miss you. Hope to see you soon."

After a few moments of silence, he pushed himself back up on his feet and walked back the way he came. O'Donnell felt his muscles relax. Among the few rare moments when he knew Lombardi had the brains to keep his mouth shut, this was one of them.

"Set the next date to around his fifties if you can."

Lombardi nodded, tapping in the commands onto his handheld. One push of the button, and the two waited as the lake blurred into nothing.


	3. Dressed in Casualties

Flowers, the first thing to appear right in Lombardi's face. A line of flower baskets sat on top of short pillars among the two rows of them, a white carpet draped between them.

Seven white tulips and four pink roses in each basket.

At least, that was what he assumed they were. Not the colour he would've liked either, but if he ever got married, he imagined he wouldn't get much of a choice. Then the handheld in his pocket started beeping, and he pulled it out, checking its screen.

"Looks like I'm getting a lot of readings out of this place." He turned around, hearing O'Donnell's footsteps from behind. Then he smirked. "Not that I'd expect anything but that."

"Then start looking around."

"Why don't you take it easy? We still got a lot of time before morning comes around."

He sighed. "I just want to get in, get out, and get done. Let's go."

Shrugging it off, Lombardi followed O'Donnell as they started walking along the carpet through the row of pillars, passing two faceless figures—a woman in a white ballgown that was getting her veil fixed by another figure. Spawns of draped tables of white welcomed them to the party, each sitting groups of four.

Despite the number of people, Link was nowhere to be seen.

"And here, I thought it's usually the brides that do the hiding." Lombardi glanced around. "So where would I be if I was the groom?" Not a single person at each table had a face—like the bride and her assistant—that was normal to see for faces people did not remember in memories. The chatter from the crowd continued, but still, no groom; even the priest stood with tapping feet at the altar at the front of the party. Then he noticed a woman in formal, purple dress and grey sweater who still had her face. Not his type, he realised, judging from her posture—fingers twirling at her lap, legs squeezed together—but her gaze remained straight and steady. He looked over to where she stared. In the distance, O'Donnell was walking towards the far edge by the curtains far behind the altar, and he hadn't noticed until now.

Lombardi ran over to him and eventually caught up. O'Donnell glanced at him before turning back; he had that look again. Behind the curtain were two figures: one in a white suit and brown hair pacing back and forth as well as another standing beside him—black suit, blond hair.

And a cap. _That_ cap.

"During a wedding? His own wedding, while you're at it! Who the heck would wear something as tacky as that on a day like his?"

"You would. So shut up."

"Why should I? It's not like they can hear us since we're still in _Transparent Mode_. If I could, I'd burn that until it's all ash."

"No—I mean shut up!"

Lombardi felt his breath get caught in his throat before mumbling with a scowl. Staying silent, he finally heard the one in white speaking while pacing back and forth, wondering what could have spiked O'Donnell's interest.

"Today's gonna be a good day," the one in white said. "I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be fine—"

Link sighed. "Just because you keep telling yourself that doesn't mean it's true."

"Look, I don't want to hear your usual downers today. How are you so calm, anyway? This is a huge deal and here you are standing without a care in the world."

"Maybe it's because I'm not the one getting married."

Lombardi raised an eyebrow before chuckling and turning to O'Donnell. "So I guess you aren't the only guy that stayed single at that age."

"But you're already married, Link," they heard the groom say. "You should know exactly how to fix this."

Lombardi could almost see O'Donnell's usual scowl coming back. "I stand corrected. Guess you're still alone in that category."

He glared, but then he turned his attention back to the two of front of them. The two of them continued listening to the groom's worries and rants about "What if"s; if the food ended up turning bad, if someone crashed the wedding, or if his fiancée decided to change her mind and left him for someone else. The groom rubbed his temples.

Lombardi snickered to himself. Bad things always happened at weddings; the groom would end up forever chained down to one woman.

But he bit his lip. If his girlfriend ever heard him make that kind of a joke…

"What happened to the outgoing bastard that used to talk me into anything?" Link clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "If it's any consultation, there's nothing that needs 'fixing'. Now that the day's finally here, you will get to share a life with a friend who actually understands you in the way I even can't. And I bet she's still willing to keep you around even if you make mistakes the way you always do."

He smiled, placing a hand on his hip. "Since when did you get snarky?"

"Since when did you get wimpy?"

He chuckled. "Fair enough. This is why I made you my best man. You know exactly what to say, despite being a downer most of the time. Your wife did a great job with the flowers, by the way. I heard you helped her pick them out?"

"She's the expert on flowers, not me. Now go. Everyone's waiting for you."

The groom nodded before walking away, heading around the curtains and past Lombardi, though he wouldn't be able to see him to begin with.

"Did you see that?"

Lombardi flinched when he heard the voice; he had forgotten O'Donnell was standing next to him the entire time. "See what?"

O'Donnell crossed his arms, motioning towards Link with the flick of his chin. "His face."

Looking back at Link, Lombardi noticed he had taken off his hat a moment ago and was now putting it back on his head.

"You missed it; he was staring at his hat. We aren't at the right date."

He huffed. The tone O'Donnell used during moments like this felt like rocks were being tossed at his nerves every time; it wasn't as if O'Donnell acted like his almighty superior, but it was more like he was talking him down, as if everything he said was supposed to be obvious. Lombardi hated it. With a sigh, he looked back to where the groom had gone. "I still think we should keep looking around for a while. Something might happen. Who knows?"

O'Donnell gave him a sigh followed by rolled-eyes—as usual. Then the both of them watched as Link walked along the same path the groom took. At the same moment, they heard a sudden rise in the crowd's chatter. O'Donnell and Lombardi decided to follow Link as they took a look for themselves.

Lombardi chuckled. "And here comes lucky timing's perfect entrance."

A swarm of people had gathered around the left table closest to them. They watched as Link shoved his way through the human barrier and quickly followed behind him. Once through, Lombardi let out a silent gasp. The first thing to caught his attention was the dishevelled redhead standing in the centre of the circle, the spikes on the back of his jacket forcing people to step away from their tips. Then Lombardi noticed the woman he saw earlier gripping the chair she sat in, eyeing the figure that towered over her. The bodies of people beside him were shoved aside as Link finally forced his way towards the middle and in between the two, blocking the stranger from approaching the woman any closer.

"Mr. Faori, great to see you again. Surprised to see me? Well, you shouldn't be."

"Lombardi," a voice said from behind him—O'Donnell. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Isn't that your—"

"What the heck is he doing here?" Lombardi said. "Why is he here? How do they know each other? What is—?"

"Lombardi, calm down. The guy's gotten arrested already. We're with a different client now."

"I almost couldn't move my legs anymore thanks to him, and you're telling me to calm down?"

O'Donnell held his arm. "It's not like he can see us—and remember this is someone else's memory—so get as much data as you can from the area, and we'll see how the situation goes."

Lombardi grumbled, but took out his handheld and punched in the letters without delay. In the meantime, the woman was about to stand, but Link held out a hand in front of her, and she sat back down.

The man laughed. "Why so defensive? I only wanted to see Mrs. Faori over here. And my, aren't you looking lovely today."

Then he stepped forward, and Link took a step back, mumbling a word.

"What's that?" the man asked.

"You're drunk."

"And that's your problem how?"

He swallowed and let out a sigh. "Go bother someone else. We don't welcome your kind here." Then he turned to the woman, holding her hand down.

"You'll regret saying that, imp." He lunged forward. Link turned around. Then the man threw a punch, smashing Link's face. He fell. The chatter rose. Soon, people from the crowd flooded in, grabbing hold of the man. The man struggled, trying to shake people off. Link shook himself off, watching the man shove blank bodies aside. People gathered around him too. Hands grabbed his arms. Others built a wall between him and the man.

Link tried to shove his way through. Bodies continued throw themselves at him. Through the cracks, he saw his face—the man smirking. Laughing, even. Both were soon pushed away from each other. The crowd quieted down to bits of shouting. Then the groom pushed his way through to where Link was and knelt down beside him.

As quickly as it started, the commotion ended, and the woman from before had been standing far away from the fray, no one ever noticing except for Lombardi, who looked up at her before punching in the final code to his handheld.

"Done," he said, pressing the button. The scene before him froze and started to pixelate.

O'Donnell stomped over towards him. "What are you doing? I wasn't done yet."

"We're going to a different time; I don't care where. Just not here."

"Now you decide to agree with me?"

Lombardi never answered him back.


	4. Petal River Far Downstream

"Time?"

"22:35." About an hour and a half since they started. They'd been ambling through a section of low-rise houses at the border of a grass plain.

O'Donnell remembered riding through those suburbs on his way to Link's, but he didn't recognise the one-story homes nor the thatch roofs. He did, however, notice the cars parked at the curbs and the odd truck sitting inside an opened garage. The cars didn't have the hovers on the bottom like they did nowadays, but they did carry a similar body shape overall, minus the wheels and the lack of side wings. Older models. Made more than eighty years before _Real-time_ , he guessed.

"Give me your tab," O'Donnell.

Lombardi raised an eyebrow, but complied without a word, staring as his partner grabbed the handheld out of his hands. O'Donnell soon started scrolling through it, face grimacing at the low bar readings and the date displayed on its screen.

"You sent us back too far this time."

"I don't see how that's a problem."

O'Donnell handed it back. "It's a lot easier to go in order, and we might actually be able to get this done early."

"Remember the payment, Wolf? It's not like it's going anywhere, so we can take our time."

"Stop calling me that. And weren't you listening? He mentioned rupees, not credits. So the money doesn't change a thing."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"I may be older, but even someone like you should know your numbers by now." He held up a finger. "One credit," then three, "three rupees. So 26 thousand rupees..."

The momentary silence between them was deafening.

"Screw you, O'Donnell," Lombardi said.

"You're the one who didn't check first."

A burst of giggling interrupted him. O'Donnell glanced over his shoulder, noticing three small figures surrounding a tree. Curiosity urged him to turn around and walk towards them; he heard Lombardi's footsteps following behind as well. The children's appearances and chatters got clearer.

Two girls and a boy. The brunette girl in the pink, puffy dress tugged at the blonde girl's purple cardigan sleeve—whose hands were plopped on her hips above her white skirt. Both kids stared up at the tree, specifically at the yellow creature balancing on all-fours on a thick tree branch. It stood there without a care, looking down at the kids below and swaying side to side with a grin.

The boy stood in front of the tree, stretching his arms as high as he could, trying to grab onto the closest branch, but sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, I can't reach it either. It's too high."

"Link, are you honestly not able to get up there?" The girl in purple sighed. "I couldn't reach it either…"

"How about your dad, Zella? He's tall enough, right?"

"No, he'd never come. He's gone most days. How about your parents?"

"They're not around that often either. Naia's?"

They both looked at the girl in pink. She shook her head, eyes drifting towards the ground.

"No good?" Zella twirled her thumbs together. "But we can't leave your Pikachu hanging up there…"

Meanwhile, Lombardi held a smirk on his face, playing around with his handheld, quickly imputing codes—too quickly for O'Donnell to catch what they were.

Then he felt a strange tingle shoot through him. "What are you doing?"

Lombardi chuckled. "Nothing too big, but look. Faori-boy doesn't have his hat anymore."

"So?"

"So that means we can find something here, and you wouldn't have to complain anymore." He put his handheld back in his pocket. "Go talk to them."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because I'm sure you're nice enough not to hurt yellow mice. That, and you're not in _Transparent Mode_."

"What do you mean—"

"Old man, who are you talking to?" they heard Zella call from behind them.

O'Donnell tensed up. _No, he didn't_ …

"Act natural!" Lombardi chuckled. "You're scaring the kids!"

"Screw you," O'Donnall hissed. He sighed, turning around, facing the kids. "I didn't get enough sleep; don't mind me. Just a tourist passing by."

"Weirdo," he caught the girl say.

"Wait." The young Link stepped forward. "Mister, think you can help us out?"

Zella's eyes widened, and O'Donnell could hear Lombardi snickering behind him. Then he said, "Sure. What's the problem?"

"Our friend's Pikachu climbed up a tree and wouldn't come down. It's almost curfew, but none of us can reach it for her. It's been up there for a few hours already. Think you can climb up there and carry it down?"

"You sure we should get help from him?" Zella said. "His clothes are so weird, and we're supposed to be staying away from strangers, remember?"

"But no one else can help us."

"Still, why are we talking to him in the first place?"

"He's right there. Besides, neither of us are good at climbing anyway."

"No. I mean it. He could be a rapist for all we know."

"Now you're just making things up."

While they bickered, O'Donnell noticed the other girl behind them slowly shimmy her way up the tree. He crossed his arms. One foot after the other, the girl managed grab small sections of the trunk and pull herself up inch by inch. Soon in her grasp was the first branch. Then she tried to reach the one above her head.

"I don't think you two need me," O'Donnell said. The two of them shot him a look, so he nudged his chin out as if to say "Behind you."

Turning around, the two silently gasped. Zella quickly rushed over to the tree. "Naia, what are you doing?"

The girl didn't respond, managing to grab the second branch and pull herself up. Then she straddled it. The Pikachu let out a cheerful squeak. It hopped down to the branch where Naia sat, jumping onto her lap. The branch shook. Leaves rustled, and everyone heard a crack.

"Naia?" Link slowly approached the tree.

Another crack made O'Donnell's eyes perk up and the Pikachu squeak. Zella remained a few centimetres beside Link.

Then the branch snapped.

Naia and the Pikachu tumbled down. Zella screamed as Link ran towards them. In the matter of a few blinks, there was a loud thud, then silence. O'Donnell zoned out, no longer able to form words in his head, but a shaky "Oh my goodness" from Zella cut through his blank mind. Lost for a few moments, his attention slowly returned to him.

A groan from Link snapped O'Donnell's mind back faster. A few coughs followed. Then the Pikachu's squeaking came.

"Are you guys okay?" Zella ran up to Link—who was laying flat on his stomach with Naia collapsed on his back. "You scared me, Naia! Thank goodness you caught her, Link."

Link coughed. "Naia, glad you're fine, but can you not press me into the ground?"

She squeaked before pushing herself off him and dusting her dress out. A light blush crept up on her cheeks. With a hand outstretched, she helped pull Link back up on his feet. Zella approached them with the Pikachu in her arms, and she handed it back to Naia. From the sidelines, O'Donnell had been watching without a word, arms crossed. To his content, they all seemed to have forgotten about him, all attention shifting to Naia and her Pikachu. His thoughts soon leaned towards Lombardi and the handheld in his pocket.

"You better switch the mode back on," O'Donnell said.

"Had enough fun for the day?" Lombardi snickered. "I never knew you had a soft spot for kids."

"Same as your spot for money? No thanks."

"So you say, but you know it's true."

O'Donnell held out his hand, eyes locked to Lombardi's pocket. Lombardi complied once more, sighing as he took out his handheld and tossed it over. As O'Donnell skimmed through the options and setting on the screen, a few seconds of silence overtook them before he spoke. "Feeling better enough to move forward now?"

Lombardi scoffed. "Whatever. You're the boss. Do what you like."

Rolling his eyes, O'Donnell imputed a set of codes. Lombardi had an off-day since earlier, he knew, but his inner thoughts and problems weren't any of his business. Maybe the lack of sleep was getting the best of them; he zoned out himself when the branch broke.

Coffee. Temporary, but it helped a few problems before. What he wouldn't do for a cup right about now. The good news was he didn't feel too exhausted at the moment. However, he had no intentions of becoming so later on.

* * *

About three minutes of wandering around the inside of a whitewashed flower shop—the new location of the time warp—Lombardi came to the conclusion that O'Donnell had no intention of returning his handheld back. The only thing he was thankful for was that O'Donnell didn't change any of the sensory settings; he couldn't imagine how strong the scent of flowers in the shop must've been.

Shelf by tiled shelf, hundreds of petal colours blinded him more than the usual flash of light from time leaps. The time leaps, he got used to, but not this. Even behind him, more pots of flowers lined themselves up in different aisles.

Which reminded him—he needed to find a gift for his date tomorrow once this job was done. Maybe O'Donnell also had a good reason for wanting to rush tonight's session, not that he was ever going to admit that to him. Glancing around, Lombardi couldn't find a single body. Yet O'Donnell blames him for choosing bad time periods? O'Donnell should find something else to occupy his time instead of nagging him all the time, Lombardi thought. Perhaps one of their other colleagues might know woman who was O'Donnell's type.

Walking to the end of the aisle, Lombardi glanced to his right, finding a cashier desk near the store entrance occupied by a grey-blonde woman in a cream dress and green apron. She had her back facing the rest of the shop as she rearranged the flower pots on the shelves in front of her.

Still, O'Donnell was nowhere to be found.

_Screw him for ditching_ , Lombardi thought. His hand dug into his pocket, intending to punch in some search codes, but his pocket was empty. _Right_. He forgot.

He clenched a fist, praying the _Transparent Mode_ was still on.

Within the edges of eyeshot, Lombardi spotted Link next to a brunet man in blue shelving flower pots. He rolled his eyes; Link's hat remained as attention-grabbing as ever. But Lombardi noticed something off about the flowers Link had.

He couldn't make out their shapes.

Glancing around the shop, Lombardi couldn't make out the exact petal forms of the other flowers either, almost as if they were coloured circles or discs. It wasn't often Lombardi had a memory case like; it was normally with people, not objects, no matter how off a person's memory was.

Jingling bells chimed from where the entrance stood, and a figure with a blurred face walked in. The woman at the cashier desk turned around, giving a "Welcome" and a bow. The figure's gaze wandered throughout the reaches of the shop before turning to the woman.

"Hello, I was wondering if you could help me pick out flowers for a bouquet I need." A man, Lombardi realised, judging from his deep, yet foreign up-and-downish swing in his voice. " _Mia amore's_ birthday is coming up, and I thought flowers would go great with a surprise I'm planning for her. Do you have anything here for that?"

The woman nodded. "That's what we're here for. Every flower has a special meaning that accompanies it, so before I can suggest any, please, tell me a little bit about her."

"Well, we've known each other for so long that I can't imagine life without her. She's sweet, charming, and different from anyone else I know."

"I'm surprised you haven't gone to look at our selection of roses yet."

The man let out a shaky cough. "No, it's fine. I'm not sure we're at that stage yet."

Then the woman chuckled. "Not necessarily the red roses, but it pleases me to see you know about that. While red roses are for passionate love, other colours may suit you fancy. White ones mean purity and pink symbolises friendship. But if you still don't prefer roses, that's fine as well. Anything else?"

The man scratched his head. "We have known each other since we were children. She hasn't really changed since then. She still enjoys going out to the park on sunny days and loves helping people."

"Daisies, like white roses, mean purity as well. Either one might suit her."

He laughed a little. "As much as getting a flower with the same name as her would be the feat of the century, perhaps something else would be suitable. Something that can show how inspiring she can be sometimes."

"Irises can be found at the end of the shop behind you."

He rubbed his arm. "Those sounds lovely."

The woman nodded. "Anything else?"

It took a few moments before he answered. "It's hard for me to imagine my life without her. We've known each other for so long that even if we aren't living in the same town, I still miss her. Then again, why would I want to forget? I'm not even sure I can express who she is through flowers though. My friend told me about it, but I still don't see it."

"There's a difference between letting go and forgetting, since you lose a part of yourself when it's forgotten."

Lombardi looked away for a moment.

"Forget-Me-Nots have always been a favourite of mine," the woman continued, "so she might like those. Gardenias are lovely as well. Though if you don't mind me saying," she grinned, "I think she would love lilacs coming from you. Lilacs mean first love."

The man rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe. You seem to have a lot to choose from though. Do you happen to have a book or catalogue with all those flower meanings that I can take a look at?"

"Yes, we do. Follow me."

Lombardi watched the two as they walked over to the door near the end of the shop to his left. That woman had been in most of Link's memories so far, but he still didn't know what her name was. It shouldn't have bugged him, but it did. What made matters worse was that he still couldn't find O'Donnell anywhere.

"First time in a while since I've seen your wife with a smile like that," Lombardi heard someone say from behind him. He turned around, noticing the man in blue from before talking to Link. "She's still as blunt and informative as ever though. Careful, bud. A smile like that could attract all kinds of guys, so keep a good eye on your woman."

Link chuckled as he shelved pots labeled "Poppies" into rows in front of him. "I'm not worried. I do agree with ya though; it's been a long while since I'd last seen her this happy. She's been a little off for years now, but she sure loves talking about 'dem flowers."

"Did you tell her yet? About the job?"

Link shook his head. "I don't know what to do. If I don't do it, it'd take longer to pay the payments to keep the shop, but if I do, then she'd never forgive me."

"You still have a lot of time to think about it before the day they expect an answer, right? I'm sure whatever you choose, she'll understand."

"I don't know, Pepot…"

Pepot sighed. "No matter what though, you have the final call."

Link nodded. "If I do decide to accept the job, take care of my wife, will ya?"

"I will. Don't worry about that."

Lombardi could feel his patience snapping bit by bit like threads of pulled string. Nothing else in the memory stood out to him, the room being small as well. He could care less about O'Donnell's authorial status over him now that Lombardi wanted to rip his arms off, but at least he got to learn how O'Donnell felt sometimes.

He hoped he wouldn't end up becoming a grump once he was O'Donnell's age.

Or end up staying single for too long.

Lombardi felt better again.

At that moment, he noticed Link and the man's figures freeze in place as parts of the flower shop started to pixilate. Lombardi soon heard footsteps resonate from behind him; he resisted all of his urges to turn around and yell.

"Hopefully, you managed to get some good data from there," O'Donnell said. "Now's the time to move on."


	5. Jing, Jong, Indifference

He had less time than he thought.

O'Donnell arrived with a handheld in hand, materialising at the end of a narrow, beige hall while aimlessly scrolling and switching options on its screen. It started beeping, and the corner had a clock with a countdown. Having the TD attached to a person too long could cause brain damage, he remembered. He had to work faster.

Looking up, he found himself facing a door and an opening to the left that led to the living room. It was a little more cramped than the average house corridor with a table sitting at the side, taking up more than half the space. A pot of bunched purple flowers grew on top of it. One thought crossed his mind.

No Lombardi in sight.

A sweet night it was going to be, not having to listen to Lombardi's antics 24/7, but he couldn't afford to waste any time.

O'Donnell stole a glimpse of the handheld. Two points appeared on the neon lines of the black grid, him and Lombardi's. Unlike the last time he took a look, the dots blinked farther away from each other.

The woman in the purple cardigan that stood before him tended to the flowerpot, watering and turning the pot so the flower didn't lean too far towards the window. Beside her stood Link, whose left hand was rubbing his right wrist.

"Dear? I have some news to tell you," he said.

She put down the cup she was holding as she turned to face him, not answering back.

"Dear—?"

"I heard you. Go on."

He raised an eyebrow for a quick moment before continuing. "But before that, what if we visit Trion Lake for a day? Do you think that'd be a good idea?"

"No."

That caught O'Donnell's attention. Link's eyes also widened a bit before he fixes his composure. "So you don't want to?"

"Yes."

"Not even visit the old town where we grew up?"

"Yes."

The silence that piled between them bothered O'Donnell. There was something about Link's wife that felt off to him; even he knew not all women were this curt.

He sighed. "So you'd even be against considering to move there."

She kept her blank gaze up. "But we are anyway, aren't we?"

He cocked his head. "What do you mean? Where'd you get that idea from?"

"Don't lie. I don't like it when you do. I heard you talking with Pepot at the flower shop. You got a job, didn't you? It pays a lot."

He nodded. "I just didn't want sell the flower shop. You love that place, and I didn't want to lose that."

The woman glanced at her feet, falling silent for a few moments. "She's still watching over us."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not about me; it's never been about me." Her monotonous voice was no different from before, but O'Donnell felt his chest tighten despite not being the one she was talking to. "It's about you. The flower shop is yours, not mine. All I do is work in it." Then she walked out of the room, leaving Link standing in the living room by himself.

O'Donnell pressed a button on the tab, freezing the scene in front of him, taking a few seconds to think before imputing codes onto the handheld.

He was done here; he didn't want to see anymore.

* * *

After a blinding flash of white and blue from the time transitions, O'Donnell reunited with Lombardi.

He couldn't help but chuckle when he listened to Lombardi rant about being stuck in a room of flowers. At least it sounded like Lombardi had more than enough data to share. The pixels rearranged themselves in front of them as beige walls dominated the space. Soon, Link's figure was created—along with his green cap in all its glory, much to Lombardi's displeasure, O'Donnell assumed.

Then the scene came to life before them. The doorbell rang from the hall, causing Link to stop looking at the pile of papers on his coffee table. "Coming," he called out before rushing over to the door.

Lombardi glared at O'Donnell. "Do you actually know how to use my tab?" He stared at his left arm—which was stuck _inside_ the wall—trying to yank it out before looking back at him. "My arm is stuck, for geezus' sake! It's like I tried running into it! Get me out!"

O'Donnell didn't answer him as he glanced around the room. It appeared to be the same house from the previous memory O'Donnell was in, except now, he arrived in the living room, not the hallway. And judging from the yelling, Lombardi still had some remaining frustration from when they got separated. It wasn't O'Donnell's fault that the tab required code syncing. He still remembered the older days when the technology was simpler to use, when money wasn't the deciding factor in a lot of life's pleasures, when he had more time to spend for himself.

"Heya! There you are! Please, come right in," Link said at the door. He and a figure in blue walked into the living room, the figure sitting himself on the couch. "Want anything to drink? Water, beer, wine—"

"Now you and I both know you should save the wine for another day," the man said. "You have money you need save up, after all. And no," he added, "it doesn't make you stingy if you don't offer any."

"Thanks for coming, Pepot. I'm sorry about this since I'm sure you'd be with your girlfriend or something. Y'all make a nice pair."

"Save it. What's the problem?"

Link glanced at the papers on the coffee table, pointing at them. Pepot took a sheet, scanning through it, clicking his tongue as he took another and looked at it.

"Whew, that's pretty hefty. You think you're going to be able to pay for it all?"

"Not with what I've been earning. The flower shop was a big investment as it is. It earns an okay amount, but not enough to sustain itself… No, I'm not asking for a loan," he said when Pepot opened his mouth. "I want to ask for some advice."

"Really?" He chuckled. "You want to ask me for advice? Me?" After, he dropped his sarcastic tone. "It must be pretty bad then."

Link nodded. "Next month, we won't have enough to pay for both our home and the shop. We may have to put the store in the market."

"But your wife…"

"I know."

The immediate thought of marriage came up in O'Donnell's. He doubted he'd ever be ready for that. Lombardi might be since he had a girlfriend—if O'Donnell was remembering it right, though he didn't know for sure.

"That's why I want to tell ya the real reason I called," Link continued. "I recently got a job offer. Fantastic 'lil place. Gonna be working on a couple of ranch stuff as well as doing delivery for a well-known agricultural company. Also, the pay is just enough to pay off everything in less than a month."

Pepot chuckled. "Congratulations! That sounds amazing! Hope you don't mind me saying, but I'm not seeing the problem here."

"It's…" he sucked in a deep breath, "…near Trion Lake."

Pepot's eyes widened. "Didn't you and your wife used to grow up there? What's wrong with going back?"

Link sat down on the couch next to him. "For one thing, unless she wants to do some travelling, it's quite a ways away from here, from the flower shop."

"Can't imagine how long it'd take. Two, maybe three hours? Better than selling the place though, right? She'd be devastated if you did; even my girlfriend mentioned it once."

"True…" Link sighed. "It's just that Trion isn't a place she'd be happy about. I know I'm not entirely so, but I had a lot of good memories of the place too. It had everything we wanted…" His voice drifted off. "It's not something I like to talking about."

"All right, I gotcha. And don't worry about not being able to work at the shop with your wife anymore. My girlfriend and I will still be around to help. By the way, does your wife even know about this yet?"

Link shook his head.

"No wonder. Have you even considered telling her?" Silence. "It's not going to help anyone if you don't. And the worse thing you could do is lie if you know what's good for you, considering how complicated, yet predictable women can be."

"Predictable? How's your girlfriend been doing?"

"…Don't you dare."

"So now we know how Faori ended up at Trion Lake," Lombardi said, finally pulling himself out of the wall, grumbling at the same time. "Seems weird, though. He seemed eager to go to the lake last time I checked. And I didn't know that place used to have an agriculture business."

"It did until cloning was made possible." Then O'Donnell sighed. "Not a lot of farming is needed nowadays because of it. These days, everything's fast-paced, probably faster than the old Link to keep up with."

Lombardi crossed his arms. "I figured as much. So do you know how he told her if he did?"

Instead of answering, O'Donnell looked away, crossing his arms as he did. He continued watching the scene before him, not saying a word for the rest of the time.

"So what are you going to do?" Pepot asked.

Link sighed. "I don't know. I really don't know…"

* * *

As soon as Lombardi got his handheld back—and returned to being the one who chose the dates again—he checked the clock. 23:42. Close to midnight. Perhaps he might have to admit O'Donnell had a good reason after all.

Maybe it was about high time that they started picking up the pace.

He found himself standing in a sea of sitting bodies, each with blurred faces passing by like water. The deeper he went into Link's memories, the less energy he had. The room itself could be blamed as well, he thought. Blank walls boxed the crowd in, a tiled ceiling dotted with fluorescents—not too bright, just enough—and Despite the amount of people around, no sounds were heard; no voices or footsteps.

Silence.

He didn't like it.

He spotted O'Donnell standing across the room. "You didn't lower the volume, did you?" he said.

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Why? Need a hearing aid, old man?"

"How about I make you bring coffee the next time we do a late night job?" O'Donnell still carried an authorial, somewhat of a monotone voice. "Your jokes are starting to get stale, Blue."

"Blue? What kind of a name is that?"

"Matches your hair. I thought you were into appearances?"

"Har har. Your jokes aren't getting any better either. Let's go find Faori."

"Already did." O'Donnell glanced over his shoulder. "He's right here with his wife."

Lombardi walked quickly to where he stood, seeing Link—and his ever-so-floppy hat—alongside his wife. That hat had no boundaries, he though, shuddering at the sight of its green clashing with Link's orange shirt. Also by then did Lombardi start to notice both Link and his wife appeared a lot younger than before, their skins less wrinkly and their hair carrying deeper shades of blond than their previous grey.

The oddest thing of all: neither of them were speaking. Sitting in front of those two were two faceless people, making gestures with their hands. Link and his wife did the same, giving different hand signals the faceless ones seemed to have understood judging from how they continued responding back with their own hand-actions. It was at the border of Lombardi's memory, the gestures being so familiar to him.

"We're at a community centre," O'Donnell said from behind him. "One for disabilities, it looks like."

"Think you're gonna end up here someday?"

"Don't push it."

He shrugged. "Had to try." Glancing around, he noticed the entire room of people were making hand gestures. "You understand what they're doing?"

"No, but not a lot of people do this nowadays. With the current technology we have, it's just not needed."

"Do you miss that? When we didn't have the stuff we have now?"

O'Donnell stroked his chin. "Not sure. A bit of half and half, you can say. It was a lot harder those days. Nothing too fancy like now. The determined workers were the ones better off because they actually do the work. Crops and animals were grown and cared for, not cloned. The governments were a little more tax-heavy—even if they still are now, though not as bad as before. You know where I'm getting at, right?"

Lombardi nodded.

"Yeah, but there was something about those simpler times that felt relaxing. Slower. It was still fast-paced, but not as fast as everything else in today's world. Someday, I'll get left behind like everyone else in their old ages. Even you, blue-hawk."

"And now you expect me to believe you are better at nicknaming than me?"

"No, but I'm always going to be the one in charge. Get us out of here. There's not much we can look at now."

Without any other complaints, Lombardi imputed the codes into his handheld. The world once again pixelated, and he watched a new scene build before him. A faint beeping soon caught his attention. Close, too. He heard it coming from his pocket. From his handheld. He hoped O'Donnell hadn't caught it yet, but Lombardi knew he wouldn't be happy if he did.

And there it was again.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._


	6. Nothing Ever Free

Materialising in the middle of a road, the first thing to hit O'Donnell was a blinding light and the blares of a car horn. A truck rushed passed him when he turned around, soon finding himself facing the front of an empty, white-painted building, its windows boarded up with wood, letters for a store-front sign piled by its door. The city itself was less than stellar; grey clouds piled upon grey buildings and streets. If he took out the small speckles of maroon bricks that dotted a few building-tops and the yellow strips that cut across the centre of the roads, all that would've been needed was a coat of chrome to replicate modern society—in addition to taller skyscrapers and more domed roofs. A few trees standing in neat rows as they bordered the sidewalk added to what little colour he could see.

Everything here was exactly like what he remembered from his own childhood.

He ran across the road, making sure to avoid getting hit by the cars racing through the waves of rush-hour traffic, noticing Lombardi materialising beside the pile of letters in front of the window. Lombardi, in turn, stumbled when he was able to move again, almost tripping on a letter A display sign.

"You owe me a new tab. What'd ya do to this one?"

O'Donnell shrugged. "Nothing that you wouldn't do. Seems to work just fine."

"Honestly, if this is payback from earlier, I'm pretty sure we are even by now."

"I'll get your tab fixed later. Right now, let's focus on the job."

To their right, they spotted Link in a thatch coat, jeans, and his hat walking along the sidewalk, hands covering the eyes of the brunette woman—who wore a purple cardigan and a long, pink skirt—he led in front of him.

"Where are you taking me?" the woman asked.

"It's a surprise," Link said. "Just wait."

"But you said we were going to a—"

"I know."

O'Donnell watched the two stop a few feet in front of him before Link turned the woman's body to face the building. He moved his hands away, and the woman gasped.

Link chuckled. "This is going to be our new flower shop. What do you think?"

"How did you managed to get it?"

"It took a while to get the funds together—a few years of saving up, a few bank loans among other things. It's kinda small, but 'dem previous owners were awfully nice enough to—"

The woman cut him off with a hug. "Thank you. It's perfect."

"I think _that's_ the happiest I've seen them, especially the woman." Lombardi looked up at the building. "Not too shabby, consider how stuffed the inside will be later."

"I don't know why, but she's starting to look familiar."

"What do you mean? The woman?"

"Yeah, like I've seen her somewhere."

"We've been memory hopping all night. Of course you have."

O'Donnell stayed silent, staring at Link and the woman. By now, Link had wider eyes, a less exhausted face—though not by much. He was probably in his late thirties, O'Donnell assumed. Remembering his own life in his late twenties, not once did he think too much about the future. Nothing about settling down with anyone, nothing about a house—maybe a job—taking it easy. How he managed to land a job with the company he worked for now seemed like a passing blur to him.

"It's too bad they don't get to keep those smiles for long though," Lombardi continued. "It's a lot of work, maintaining two sets of mortgages—let alone one."

He stroked his chin. "You know, I think I might do something like this someday. Start a new business. Sounds fun."

"Hah, I doubt it. Hard enough to keep a girl, let alone a business."

"Let's get a move on it then. Get us out of here."

"Aye yi, old man."

* * *

Lombardi held his head, finding his vision blur for a moment.

"You all right?" O'Donnell said.

He nodded. "It's nothing. I'm fine, thanks."

O'Donnell stared at him for a while before shrugging it off. Lombardi sighed, shaking thoughts out of his head.

After pushing his handheld's button, he closed his eyes, allowing the slight dizziness he had to subside, waiting for the scene in front of him to finish building itself out of pixels. Once he felt the shift in the air stop, he opened his eyes, only to have them widen when he saw where he was standing.

He started mumbling to himself. "Geezus, where the heck are we?" He looked down past the wooden platform he stood on, spotting two figures standing thirty feet below.

"Where are we?" he heard O'Donnell say from beside him with a slight rumble in his voice. "Don't tell me we're standing on a crate tower."

"Okay, we're not standing on a crate tower."

"Now say it without lying to me."

Lombardi stayed silent, chuckling to himself as he glanced back down at the two figures below. Even from how far up he was, he could still spot Link's green cap clashing with the navy blue coat he had on. In front of him was a person—with a blurred face as far as Lombardi could tell from where he stood—in an all-black outfit matching his dark skin. The figure talked as if through his hands, having them wave around while he spoke. The beeps of a pager sounded from him too, causing a hint of déjà vu to linger in Lombardi's mind.

Another client he'd worked with? It clicked in his mind. The "Beeping Man," he'd nicknamed him since his pager constantly beeped no matter what. At the time, it turned out the pager caused problems to the TD's sound systems. It was always the weird ones that caused problems for the TD; maybe the machine had alergies—a bad joke he could imagine O'Donnell making.

"Is that the lowest you can go?" he heard Link say.

"Look," the Beeping Man said, "if you ain't gonna be able to pay, there are plenty of buyers in the market willing to take the place too. Either now or nothing at all." He had his hand out in front of Link, rubbing three of his fingers together.

Lombardi nudged O'Donnell's shoulder. "Remember that guy, Wolf? He conned you out of ten grand in one of his memories once."

"You—" Then O'Donnell sighed. "Good thing it was a memory and not reality." He glanced around, soon looking down beside Lombardi. "Gonna jump?"

His eyes widened. "Say what now?"

"You heard me. We won't get enough data if we aren't close enough."

He swallowed, continuing to look down. They may have the TD, but it was still a long drop.

"Geez, Lombardi," he heard O'Donnell mumble from behind him. Then he felt something shove him off the platform edge. He tumbled down, hurtling towards the floor. _Thud_. He fell face-first. Luckily, he didn't feel a thing thanks to the TD, only a minor shock through his bones. O'Donnell lept off after him, landing on his feet like it took no effort to do so.

Lombardi pushed himself up. "Screw you, Wolf."

He rolled his eyes, attention turned back towards Link and the Beeping Man.

"Ya know I need the place, and I know you gotta sell it soon." Link stared at the Beeping Man, who'd crossed his arms. "Can you make a better offer?"

"We could keep on bargaining all day if we wanted to, but time's a'ticking; I ain't here for that long. Take it or leave it. If you ain't paying, we're done here."

He started walking away when Link growled to himself, clenching a fist. "Fine. I'll take it." He sighed. "When can we renovate the property?"

"As soon as ya like. I knew you'd see my way soon enough." He held out a hand. "Pleasure doing business with ya, Mr. Faori. I'm sure you and your lovely gal will love the place."

Looking away, he shook the hand, mumbling: "I'm sure you'd love to put me into debt too."

"Do all our clients happen to know each other?" said Lombardi.

"Lombardi, focus. He's not our client anymore either. Don't let the past follow you."

He scowled. "I swear, it's a small world sometimes. Familiar faces everywhere, where everyone's out to get you. Next thing you know, all my past girlfriends are going to haunt me."

"From the amount I heard you've dated, I don't blame them." Lombardi glared. O'Donnell continued: "You asked for it. How many has it been? You brought that girl who wore leopard print to the office once, and there was another time with the other one who always wore pink until she suddenly switched to black one day—which soon after, you dumped her if I remember it right…" Then he shrugged. "At least their taste in outfits match yours."

"So why am I getting the dating lecture all of a sudden? And by the way, I'm dating 'the other one' again, so shut up."

"Let's keep going. We might be onto something. Here is when Link starts falling into debt—remember that."

He scoffed before taking out his handheld when he noticed a streak of electricity run through the graphics of the memory, where the crates were. Strange. Was the memory unstable or was it something else? He'd have to get that checked out later. Inputting coordinates, he pressed the button and watched the familiar pixels dazzle the background with new colours.

* * *

"When you die, where would you want to get buried?"

"Huh? You're still thinking 'bout that?"

"Yes. So where would you go?"

"Gee, I dunno. Where would you want to go?"

"Where would you think?"

With Trion lake beside them on their right, Lombardi and O'Donnell hid behind a tree as they spied on two figures who stood in front of the lake closest to the cliff. Link was wearing a green tunic this time, one that finally matched his hat, not clashing the way his other outfits had. Next to him was the same woman from before, but a little younger; a guess would put both Link and her at around their early thirties now.

In front of them was a grave.

"That woman's as strange as ever," Lombardi muttered. "I feel a bit bad for Faori, actually. Think about it; what do they have in common? It seems more to me like he's forced to work for the princess, like a one-sided deal, don't you think? She wants this; she gets it. He wants something, and now it's a big problem."

"For some reason, she's starting to get really familiar. Like I've met her before."

"You sure about that? It's not like you have the best memory."

"I'm sure that's you, but I mean it. As if I've seen her when I was really small or something like that."

"Well, you are close to your retirement year, so maybe."

"But you know almost everyone we've encountered in Link's memories, haven't you?

He chuckled. "Almost. Some a little more drunk and stupid than others. Like they were ready to kill everybody."

Watching Link and the woman still looking towards the lake, Lombardi noticed that Link was holding a stem of little purple flowers bundled together exactly like the ones he brought to the lake in his more recent memories.

"The lilacs are lovely," the woman said to Link. "I'm sure she'll like them too." Her voice drifted, almost as if disappointed, but Lombardi wasn't sure.

Link nodded as he put them down on the ground, in front of the tombstone.

Without a warning, the scene in front of them was cut off short, pixellating into white, warping them into the blank room from before. A faint beeping noise sounded in the distance. O'Donnell never gave Lombardi the command to go anywhere, so why were they here? He didn't have the energy to try to argue, however, so he decided to shrug it off and yell at him later.

"Lombardi, take us to the next memory."

It turned out that Lombardi had already been jamming away at the buttons of his handheld. He let out a nervous chuckle as he continued to do so. "I would if I could. It's not working."

He kept pounding away when the room started to shake and rumble. Electricity zapped across the ceiling.

"Lombardi—"

"I'm trying!"

Static shocked through the walls. Soon, flashes of different memories melded together for second intervals. Trees. Streets. People. Houses. Appearing and disappearing again and again. Like a cracked television screen with a broken channel. Then a high-pitched screech pierced their ears. O'Donnell covered them. Almost fell to his knees. His minds strung into a blank. Felt like it might pop out of his head.

Lombardi pushed a button, and then it stopped as suddenly as it happened. The ground calmed and steadied itself beneath their feet.

O'Donnell shook off his head before glaring. "Lombardi, what the hell was that? What did you do?"

"I don't know! Give me some time!" His attention was practically glued to the handheld's screen, O'Donnell realised. He decided to leave it at that before gazing at the scene in front of them.

He didn't know what to make of what he saw.


	7. Ticker Timer Trapped Tumbling Now

Electricity crackled through the pixels that made up the walls. The floor had cracks that dropped towards an endless void. Around the room, city roads spiralled from the floor to the ceiling with trees hanging upside-down as if gravity had no hold on them. O'Donnell ambled forward, looking for an explanation to everything. Houses materialised beside him in rows. Glancing down, a sidewalk built itself beneath his feet.

The figure of a blonde girl in a purple cardigan and skirt appeared before him, made up from the pixels floating in the area. She'd been glancing around as if searching for someone. In an instant, the image of young Link formed from the same specks as if out of thin air, and he rushed up towards her.

"Zella, wait for me!"

She stopped and turned around, scoffing lightly when she saw him beside her. Halting into a stop, Link started panting, resting his hands on his knees.

"You're late," she said, her voice quieter even though it still held her usual, affirmative tone. "I thought I was going to have to walk home by myself."

He spoke between breaths. "Sorry 'bout that." The moment he caught his breath, his eyes widened. "Wait, home? Didn't you say your folks weren't back yet? No one would be there."

"I know." Then it went silent from there as they continued walking.

Soon, Link snapped his fingers. "Have you ever been outside of town before? There's a really nice place near here."

"Really? You mean it?"

"I can show you if you like, but what 'bout your folks? Won't you get in trouble if you aren't back by curfew?"

Zella held his hand. "Show me."

O'Donnell then heard crackles from behind him. He turned around. In the distance was the stone-brick house Link had lived in when they'd first met, the door wide open. Curious, he walked over there and entered inside.

Meanwhile, Lombardi continued punching in codes into his handheld, taking care not to step on any of the cracks and electricity running along the ground. Looking up, the scene in front of him was a partial snow plain. Both sides of the area had a cutoff where floating pixels left them unbuilt.

Two figures ran past him from behind: a small, brunette girl in a pink parka and the green-coated, blond boy she was pulling along—the young Link, but no hat. A Pikachu ran beside them, following along.

"Naia, where are we going?" Link asked, his breaths forming into mist.

She turned her head around, only to shoot him a cheeky grin before turning back, holding his hand tighter. Each pant they both made clouded into the air, and the two ran out of sight like a steam train, out of the limits of what the scene allowed Lombardi to see.

* * *

Expecting to see the inside of a house, O'Donnell instead found himself looking at a hospital ward. Two rows of single beds stretched towards the door at the end in front of him, a few curtains in between separating some of them. The sound of heart monitors beeped in the room. _Beep. Beep. Beep_. He turned around, but all that was there was a grey wall; the door he came in from was gone.

"I knew you'd be seeing my way soon enough."

O'Donnell turned around. A flash of pixels made the image of the Beeping Man appear standing on a bed. Then he disappeared in the same instance. _Weird_ , O'Donnell thought. The Beeping Man didn't come from this memory, so he shouldn't be here.

"Surprised to see me? Well, you shouldn't be."

Behind a curtain to his left, O'Donnell saw the spiky, red-headed drunk from the wedding memory. The drunkard smirked before disappearing too.

_What was going on?_

As O'Donnell walked forward, he started to notice cracks within the curtains and walls liked glass, pitch-black where holes had formed.

"What's wrong with them?"

He turned around again, but this time, there stood the young Link with a sliding door behind him. A closer look, his face was the palest O'Donnell had ever seen, dark circles and bags under his eyes, a familiar green cap sitting on his head. The oddest thing of all, he didn't look sad. Only emotionless, a blank face. This must've been the start to everything, why Lombardi and he were hired to begin with. But O'Donnell wasn't at the root of it all. Not yet.

Behind Link, a doctor walked in—his face blurred—putting a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up. "Are they going to wake up?"

The doctor shook his head. Link's face darkened, and he stared straight ahead, as if looking directly not at O'Donnell, but though him. O'Donnell shuddered a bit before walking towards the door behind Link and into the hallway.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lombardi had continued playing around with his handheld's buttons. He pressed a few more when his screen went red, and the bars on it raced up and down. Soon he realised it wasnt the TD that had problems; it was Link. How much damage was his mind taking? Had his brain worn out in the process?

Soon he looked up and was left speechless from what he saw.

Chunks of different memories blended together like mismatched puzzle pieces. A tree with Naia climbing on it sat in the centre of the flower shop where he and O'Donnell got separated. "Then again, why would I want to forget?" Lombardi heard someone say to his left. The man he remembered from that same flower shop stood in the middle of a sea of people who were using sign-language with each other. Then the man disappeared, floating pixels lingering where he stood.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of yellow. He turned to his right, spotting a prancing Pikachu scampering along a red carpet. His gaze followed it towards two rows of white pillars lining across an endless road, similar to the ones in the wedding memory. On top of each one were not the baskets of roses and tulips like before, but vases of purple flowers, the same ones Link was holding when they saw him at the lake by the grave. Lombardi followed the Pikachu through the path.

"It's not about me; it's never been about me."

Behind one of the pillars was the woman he and O'Donnell had seen, but he didn't recognise her outfit or words. She must've been from one of the memories that O'Donnell had seen, not him.

"It's about you."

Then she disappeared as well, the same way the flower shop man did.

And to think after all this time, they still never learned her name.

As Lombardi continued walking between the pillars, he noticed that the path led into the open grass field between the cliff and the small town. It was as wide as he remembered seeing it when he first passed it on his way to Link's house. Glancing back to the front, the Pikachu hadn't been running anymore.

It was laying on the dirt road, lifeless on its side.

An image of Naia hovered over the body, tears falling from where she stood. Another figure, Zella, held her in a hug, whispering: "It was an accident. Nobody meant to hit it…" Link stood behind them, a blank stare on his face, that green cap flopping pathetically on his head. With a look like that, it could've been Link for all he knew that killed it. Then he remembered that O'Donnell almost hit one when they first arrived at the cliff. Those poor yellow rats, always causing trouble for themselves wherever they went.

Then the clang of bells caught his attention.

* * *

O'Donnell walked through a long corridor where to his left were an endless row of sliding doors and his right with parallel windows, each with a dull light beamed through each one. Between them were a couple of chairs for waiting visitors and a table with a vase of lilacs, exactly like the one in Link's house, only there were many of them this time. The pattern continued on: chairs, table, window, and so on.

An image of the young Link from earlier was sitting on one of the chairs staring at the vase of lilacs beside him. The door in front of him opened, and a doctor walked out.

"Can I see them?" Link said.

The doctor nodded, and he ran past him. Then the image of the two crackled into static before disappearing.

The damage to Link's memory was worse than he thought. And where was Lombardi? The memory fusions must've split them into different time periods—if there were any "time periods" to go by. As he continued walking, a light at the end of the hall started getting closer and closer. The echoes of bells sounded louder the nearer he got.

When he walked into the light, a familiar scene flashed out at him. Trion Lake glimmered within the centre of the a forest. Bells echoed in the area, but he didn't know where they were coming from. Walking forward, a bright spark came from the side, and Lombardi stumbled out of it.

"There you are," O'Donnell said. "Think you can get all of this fixed?"

Even without him saying anything, Lombardi was already jamming the buttons on his handheld. "I've been trying the entire time. It's not the machine; it's Link. His mind can't withstand being influenced by the TD for too long."

"We need to go on a little longer. We're almost at where it all started." Then he took a deep breath. "Restart the system."

"What? But boss—"

"Restart the system." He spoke slower this time. "That's an order, Lombardi."

Lombardi's mouth had opened, but upon seeing O'Donnell's stare, he didn't say another word. So he started playing around with his handheld again, inputting codes longer than O'Donnell could recognise.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed some pixels crackling by the lake. In front of him was the young Link in his green hat and matching tunic. O'Donnell walked towards him, and Link pointed forward. He glanced in that direction. A tombstone looked back at him. It was decorated with lilacs.

"It was my fault," Link said. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Giggling soon sounded from the side. An image of Naia in a parka and another Link—without his hat—appeared, the both of them stopping near the lake.

"Is this what ya wanted to show me, Naia? It's really pretty."

She nodded, keeping a strong grip on his hand before pulling him into a run around the lake. Then the image of the two disappeared the way the rest had.

"I was right there," the Link with the hat continued. "No one would've gotten hurt if I had done something."

From the opposite end, Zella materialised behind yet another Link, who had run up towards the water and turned around, a cheeky grin on his face.

"See? An actual, quiet and nice place outside of town."

Zella's mouth hung slightly agape as she glanced around. "All right, I believe you. It's gorgeous, the lake." She walked up behind Link. "That cliff we hiked down earlier was really pretty as well though. Maybe next time, we can head there instead?"

"Sure, if you like. The view from there is nice too. Glad to see you like it here!"

She glanced down at his feet. "Those flowers, are they lilacs?"

He looked. "I don't know. Are they?"

"I think so. What are they doing here though? I don't think they grow in this kind of area, but it looks like someone planted them there. Lilacs mean 'first love,' you know."

"And who did you learn that from?"

"You already know who."

O'Donnell watching, he heard her tell Link a name when Lombardi called out his name. He glanced over his shoulder, saying to him "I'll be right there" by nodding before turning back around. However, Zella and the hatless Link were gone. Even the young Link that did wear the cap disappeared as well.

"I'm set to do the _Restart_ ," Lombardi said as he walked over to where O'Donnell stood. "You ready?"

He nodded. "Let's go."

O'Donnell continued to stare at the lakefront when Lombardi pressed the button, making the sides start to deteriorate into loose pixels and darkness. All that was left before everything disappeared was the tombstone, except this time, the lilacs were gone.

_It wasn't your fault, Link. It's not your fault._


	8. Backtrack Back Around

"Where is she? Why is she taking so long?"

"Calm down, Link. I've never seen you this tense before."

"Maybe this ain't a good idea…"

"Whoa, you're the one who wanted to take her here. What's wrong?"

Pixels finished rearranging themselves at Lombardi's command. The sun shone above a grassy cliff where a house used to be—at least, it was going to be there later on in Link's memories. Lombardi spotted the adult Link standing near the edge of it, talking to the brunet in blue beside him.

"It's not something y'all city folks would know all too well, Pepot," Link said, "but out here, it's tradition to say goodbye to every special place that's close to you before moving away."

"I'm still not seeing why you aren't so sure about this." Pepot stroked his chin. "Is it your wife?"

"Maybe. She hasn't been the same since we were younger though." He glanced away. "Not by a little either. I mean she can be really off, like she's a different person sometimes."

"You married her."

"I know, and let me tell you I'm glad I did. It's not often that she happens to act a little strange, but when it does, you can tell."

"Sounds just like her, but it doesn't seem like she's the one you're so worried about. What about you? Why aren't _you_ so sure?"

His voice quieted down into a whisper. "I don't know. It's not easy saying goodbye." Then he looked out into the distance. "Maybe I just don't want to."

O'Donnell walked up behind Lombardi. "Nice work. Everything looks better."

"It should be able to hold for the rest of the night. How close are we?"

"Almost there at the root of it all. I'll tell you when."

Lombardi could see the the bags under O'Donnell's eyes; neither of them had the energy to continue discussing any further about it. He couldn't wait to get finished with everything and head back home to his girl. Then he noticed something shiny peek out from under O'Donnell's sleeve. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That thing in your sleeve. Can't believe I've never noticed it before."

"This? It's nothing. Get back to—"

Without a warning, he grabbed O'Donnell's arm and pulled his sleeve up. A small, gold band was strung around his wrist with fishing string.

"Is that a ring? Geezus, congrats man! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"For one thing, you're the one who keeps assuming I've been single my _entire_ life." He yanked his arm back, scowling. "Second of all, no, I'm not getting married if that's what you're thinking."

Lombardi grinned. "And here you are getting me worked up for nothing. A boring, old man to the end, Wolf." The grin curled into a smirk. "Well, maybe you're not that boring."

"You would be too if you stop calling me that. Inside of that annoyingly blue head of yours, you're all right. Sometimes."

"Look who's here," Pepot said.

Link turned around. "Hey, darling. You finally made it—" His eyes widened. "What did you do?"

A brunette woman in a black dress walked up beside them. "What do you mean?"

"Your hair! What happened to it?"

She held it out. "I got it dyed. Do you like it? I thought you like this hair colour."

"Why'd you think that? Didn't you like it the way it was before?"

Pepot chuckled. "Let the woman do her hair the way she wants. Change is nice sometimes, and you're moving anyway. Have you said your goodbyes yet?"

He opened his mouth, but his wife answered first. "Yes. We should get going."

Link glanced over his shoulder and down the cliff, where the forest and the lake were. "All right, I guess we can go then…" But Pepot and his wife were already walking away. He looked back at the distance before following behind them without another word.

* * *

O'Donnell had told Lombardi to bring them back in time again. The moment he opened his eyes, he found himself looking over the same cliff as before.

"Nothing's changed."

"Yes, it did. Geezus, can you just trust me for once? You don't always need to point every possible mistake against me, you know, hypocrite." He smirked. "In fact, weren't you the one who mistook the boss lady for a bartender—?"

"Don't you dare say another word."

He held his hands up, chuckling. "Fine, don't kill me." Then he made a head gesture, sticking his chin out to point forward. "But I told you so."

In front of him was a hatless Link and Zella sitting on the edge of the cliff, sun reflecting off their blond hair as the wind blew strands of them up. If O'Donnell hadn't known any better, he would've assumed they were either brother and sister or dating—though he wasn't sure about the latter.

"I like coming here," Zella said. "I'm really glad you showed me this place."

Link smiled. "Me too. It's nice to be able to get away from everything."

"By the way, did you know that Naia's going to be moving soon? Off to the city, apparently. Lucky her."

"Wait, moving? Y'all never told me about this before."

"Really? She hasn't? I couldn't believe it when she first told me. She's looking for someone to take care of her Pikachu. Her parents wouldn't let her take it along."

"Can you take care of it?"

"I already asked, but my parents wouldn't let me either."

"That's too bad. Maybe I can take care of Pikachu."

She raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "You? Taking care of a Pikachu? It's going to be busy for you. Think you can handle it?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Plenty of folks do it all the time."

"If you say so." She sighed. "I'm going to miss her though. Naia's like a little sister to me. I don't know what I'll do without her around to show me flowers she'd find."

Link nodded before looking out into the distance. "Yeah, me neither."

* * *

"Hey, Wolf?"

"Stop calling me that."

"Whatever." With Lombardi initiating another time jump, the two of them had warped back to Trion Lake. This time, the two watched as Link, Zella, and Naia were burying the body of a lifeless, pale-yellow Pikachu in a hole where the tombstone once stood in different memories. Lombardi continued: "So who was the girl?"

"What are you talking about?"

He groaned. "Geezus—the ring, old man! The ring. Who was she?"

O'Donnell raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"Because I thought you've been single your whole life."

"That's your fault for assuming as always."

"Screw you. This is big! All the guys back at the office would love to hear about all of this too!"

"Lombardi, why don't you stop snooping into other people's business all the time?"

He scowled. "Why don't _you_ loosen up a bit for once? If something bad happened, fine, you don't have to tell me. We all make mistakes. Deal with it." He walked up at O'Donnell's face, seeing the older man's glare coupled with a menacing aura radiating off him. Lombardi kept face. "But the longer you hold onto every little mistake that's made, the less of the world you'll be able to enjoy. You're almost retiring, old man. You don't have a lor of time left."

O'Donnell glanced over to the trio that were by the lake. They'd finished burying the body, and Zella was hugging Naia, who had collapsed onto her knees and cried. Without thinking about it, he held his arm as he watched.

Lombardi sighed. "Look boss, that had to be said. Feel free to fire me or demote me or something that you think will make you feel better, but keeping it in for too long will only tear apart your insides.

O'Donnell raised an eyebrow. "Since when were you into therapy?"

He smirked. "Since mah girl tends to talk about it all the time."

Crossing his arms, he glanced away, letting a faint smile curl on his face. "Smart woman. At least you're doing something right."

"Thanks!" Lombardi knew that was as good of a compliment as he was going to get. "So are you going to tell me about her now?"

"Who said anything about that? Get us out of here."

He let out a groan. "Fine, be that way."

* * *

The familiar honks of rush hour calmed O'Donnell's mind. It was just like when he was younger, when the wind of passing cars blew beside him, not over. Concrete skyscrapers stretched high enough for him to lift his head, but not make his neck twist back all the way. Glass windows of both buildings and cars alike were tinted black. And cars' paints were one of three colours: red, blue, or yellow. All back to the basics.

"How retro is this city?" Lombardi said. "I didn't think that flower shop would be anywhere near to downtown, but now that I see this place, it may as well be close to here."

"You should be a little more appreciative. This used to be what the busiest time of the day would be like."

"Seriously? These are the slowest cars I've ever seen!"

"You weren't complaining about it before."

"But there weren't any cars before. Speaking of cars, the ones here are a joke. Back home, _vrooom_ , ten of them could pass you in a second."

"Passes too quickly if you ask me."

"But you're old. Of course they do."

On the other sidewalk to their left, O'Donnell noticed three familiar figures. Naia was walking with a trench coat and a small suitcase in hand. Zella, who was in sundress beside her, was talking to Link, who'd been wearing a jacket, a scarf, and the green hat he knew so well.

"This city is so big!" Zella said. "I'm glad your parents let us come here for a day."

"So is this where you're going to live for now on?" Link said.

Naia nodded, hands gripping her suitcase harder, O'Donnell noticed.

Zella seemed to have noticed as well. "Hey, it's all right. We're going to come visit you whenever we can, right Link?"

"Right. And whenever you come to see us, we can go to the lake like we used to. Wouldn't that be fun? Just like old times."

She smiled, nodding as she glanced back and forth between them.

Zella gasped, pointing straight. "Hey, isn't that a—?"

The other two turned to look. Naia trembled. A small Pikachu ran out of an alley, glancing left and right in front of them. It turned and saw them. Naia took a step forward, but tehn it sprinted away. Without a second thought, she dropped her suitcase and chased after it.

"Naia, wait!" Zella soon strinted after her. Link reacting a second late followed behind them.

O'Donnell's eyes widened. "Lombardi, go go go!" He pulled his partner into a mad dash after the kids.

"What's going on?" Lombardi said between pants. They raced through the streets, past the blaring honks of cars. Lombardi kept yelling at him. All ignored by deafened ears.

The Pikachu ran across the street over car hoods, people honking as they were forced into a stop. Naia followed without looking at where she was going. Zella and Link close by yelled out to her. The distance kept widening between them.

O'Donnell's arm started throbbing. Over and over. Hurting. Stinging. He wanted it to stop. He knew what was going to happen. Heartbeat pounding in his ears. He knew how it was going to end. Faster and faster. He threw himself over a car, trying to keep the kids within sight. Faster and faster. He forced his legs to push harder. He had to get there. He had to. He had to.

Faster and faster, soon the kids were across the road beside him. The Pikachu crossed to the other side without a chance of slowing down. Naia tried to reach out to it, but her fingers fell short an inch. Then she stopped in the middle of the road. She let it go. Zella quickly caught up, almost having the girl within her grasp.

O'Donnell remembered. It was happening again. Link stretched out a hand. Yards apart; close yet far, too far. They were a few feet from of his reach. He had them right there.

Zella stumbled towards Naia when a car horn blared to her left. She turned and saw it. Then O'Donnell finally knew. The woman's face, the one Lombardi and he kept seeing. It flashed in front of him, and he recognised it in an instant. How could he not remember before? Where he'd seen it, not here, but there.

Heading towards the two girls was a pickup truck with two people: a man and a boy, one who'd soon break his arm in less than three seconds. O'Donnell knew exactly who he was; it was a kid who looked just like him. A two-year-old his age at the time.

A boy who stared back at Zella from the passenger seat of the truck.

The truck screeched as the man hit the brakes. Link screamed at them: "Get out of the way!"

But both the young and the old O'Donnells knew it came a second too late.


	9. Pulling Apart Strings

He hated it.

The silence hurt his chest more than anything else had before. Lombardi wasn't speaking. Link stood frozen in place. And two bodies lay a few feet from the truck as if dumped there. A crowd of bystanders passing by started to form a crowd around them. More continued coming as if there was a show to see. The chatter grew, but O'Donnell couldn't hear a thing. A man stumbled out of the truck—his facial features the same as he remembered; the same wrinkles, the same bushy eyebrows, and the same scowl he grew up to see. His younger self stumbled out as well from the passenger's seat, clutching his arm as he stared at the crowd.

Like a mini version of his father. O'Donnell felt his stomach turn.

"Get back in the truck, Warren," his father said, voice a little groggy. A drunk to the end, or in this case, the beginning.

The young O'Donnell silently hopped back in, watching the crowd continue to hover over the two girls in the middle. To think Link remembered him and his father. Yet he-himself didn't remember Link being there.

Link had tears welling up in his eyes as he stood in place, mouth slightly agape, muscles dead-still. An ambulance sounded in the distance as a white and red truck cut through the crowd. Doctors piled onto the streets from it, pulling stretchers out. Then Naia and Zella were lifted up and rolled into the ambulance.

O'Donnell noticed Lombardi staring at the boy in the truck, stroking his chin as he said: "Is it just me or does that kid in the truck look a lot like you?"He chuckled. "How funny would it be if he was you though?"

He didn't bother to comment.

"Calling O'Donnell, anybody there?"

Again, no answer. Lombardi snapped his fingers in front of O'Donnell's face, and he finally turned, still not saying anything.

"Hey, you okay, boss?"

A sigh. "I'm fine." Then he rubbed his temple. "It's been a late night. What time is it?"

"1:45 in the morning. That was brutal, what just happened there. Need a break?"

"No, we're almost done. Just gotta keep going back a little further."

Lombardi's eyes widened. "What do you mean 'a little further'? Aren't we here already? The cause to all his problems?" O'Donnell's mouth opened, but Lombardi cut him off before he could speak. "It would finally makes sense! Of course he'd want us to change this memory so that this accident never happened!"

"Lombardi, it's not that—"

"Two of his good friends too, the poor hat-boy. Wait, what if one of them was his wife? No wait, save them both. Link and his wife will be better and the other one will live happily ever—"

"Lombardi!"

He flinched.

O'Donnell groaned. "It's not that simple. Haven't you been paying attention? Nothing happens by coincidence. Say everyone here was attached to someone or something else by a string. So even if you stopped the truck…" he glanced at his younger self, who'd been sitting in the truck staring at the crowd, "…from hitting those two, the accident is still going to happen one way or another. Link still has a strong attachment to both of them and this memory."

"But isn't this why his wife acts so strangely later on?"

"Honestly, I don't think it's his wife who's been acting strange. Each person can remember the same events, but with different interpretations."

"Sorry, but I'm not getting it. I thought you wanted to end the night as quickly as possible. He'll marry one, and the other will live."

"By drastically changing a memory as traumatic as this, you'll force Link's brain to recreate new memories from scratch in less than a fraction of a second. Not only will his brain fail before the ripple effect even begins, but you'll permanently damage his memories in the process."

Lombardi's eyes widened.

"Has no one told you that yet?" Stroking his chin, he sighed. "How many times have you been the one to initiate the shift?"

He scratched his head, then shrugged. "Once, maybe twice?"

"Then pay attention. Remember what I mention. Every event or attachment starts somewhere. Take us back a bit into his memories, but focus on a single object. No, don't say a word; I don't want to hear any objections."

O'Donnell bit his lip the moment he saw Lombardi cock his head, but he had to get him to do it; he even resisted the urge to grab for Lombardi's handheld. He steadied himself back. Maybe Lombardi was right. Perhaps he should try to trust him every once in a while. Seeing Lombardi take out the handheld, his body suddenly felt lighter.

Then he sighed; he still didn't like giving up the baton.

* * *

A flash of white brought the two back in front of the calm waters of Lake Trion. The sunlight burst in streaks through the leaves of the trees, brighter than any of the previous times Lombardi remembered seeing it in Link's memories.

"Trion Lake?" O'Donnell walked up beside him, stroking his chin. "Not too bad. It's a start."

"Still don't trust me?"

"I never said that."

Lombardi could tell O'Donnell knew something he didn't. His fist clenched lightly, but he resisted the urge to grab his neck and shake the answers out of him, which he felt like doing 24/7.

In front of the lake were two familiar figures. Naia was swinging her legs over the water, holding a stem of purple flowers over her pink trench coat. Beside her sat the young Link, green shirt, no hat. If Lombardi had guessed the right event, O'Donnell and he were finally going to be done for the night. He couldn't wait to shove that in O'Donnell's face.

Link fumbled with his shirt. "Naia, I heard from Zella that you and your folks are gonna be moving away. That true?"

She nodded, looking down at the bag sitting on her lap.

"Why haven't y'all told me about it sooner? Me and Zella might've been able to do something with you for old time's sake. You're leaving when?"

Sighing, two fingers were held up.

"Days?"

She shook her head.

"Weeks?"

A nod.

"Two weeks, still too soon. Where are you moving too?"

With her hands, she started making symbols while mouthing the words, but Lombardi still couldn't understand what she was saying. It didn't seem like Link understood it that well either; his cocked his head, squinting. So Lombardi pulled up his handheld, scrolling through its screen.

O'Donnell stared at it from over Lombardi's shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Finding a translator."

"For sign language?"

"Technology's _that_ advanced now, old man. Think you can keep up?" Then he clicked a button. "Done. See?"

Naia had been signing again, and on Lombardi's screen, subtitles popped up. Link scratched his head. "So in the city a few miles away from town?"

She nodded.

Then Link stole the glance at the flowers Naia had. "That reminds me. Didn't you and Zella plan to open a flower shop together someday? Since you taught her a lot about them too."

She shrugged, glancing away and biting her lip, signing: _I still want to do it_. Then a gasp. _I have something for you. Want to see it?_

Link cocked his head. "For me?"

He watched as she rummaged through the contents of her bag. The moment she pulled out her gift, Lombardi chuckled; there was no way O'Donnell would be able to tell him that he wasted their time here. Naia had taken out a green, cone-like hat and set it on Link's lap. Link's eyes widened as he held it up to the light.

"You made this? That's amazing, wow, I don't know what to say."

She smiled. _I'm glad you like it._

"None of the folks I know have ever done that for me before. Thanks, Naia."

_You're welcome_.

"Right there, old man." Lombardi pointed at the two. "I knew that ugly hat must've came from somewhere. Why else did he never take it off afterwards? Take away the hat, and we're done for the night."

O'Donnell smirked. "Not bad. You did good, but you're only half right. Here was when the attachment between them was the strongest, so you can't change his memories from here either."

"But didn't all the bad stuff happen after he got it?"

"Yes, but that isn't where the root of everything began." He held out his hand, and while rolling his eyes, Lombardi handed him his handheld. O'Donnell started scrolling through its screen. "If we go back even further, we can still guaruntee that all of his later experiences won't be as bad as before."

Lombardi scoffed, crossing his arms. "Prove it."

"Better watch carefully, rookie."

The moment O'Donnell pressed the handheld's button, the edges of the area around them started decomposing into pixels. Yet the scene in front of them played on. Naia's head had been leaning on Link's shoulder as the two stared out into the lake. A Pikachu then peeked out from a tree above them.

"Be sure to come visit us once in a while," Link said. When she nodded, he smiled and put on the green hat she gave. "What do you think? Does it look all right? Unless the cap's actually a nightie, then…"

Giggling, she gave him a light shove. _I'll miss you_.

A pause. "I'll miss you too."

The Pikachu from the tree soon dropped on all-fours. Then it leapt up behind them and grabbed Link's hat with its teeth, but it pushed him into the lake. _Splash_. Naia gasped. She ran into the water when Link sprung out coughing.

She looked up at him, signing: _Are you okay?_

He chuckled. "I'm fine, but…"

The Pikachu swam up to the surface, head poking out, hat in its mouth, electricity crackling from its cheeks.

* * *

"Link, what would you think if we ended up travelling together someday? Somewhere far away where we can see the world!"

"Out of all the people I know, Zella, I didn't think you would be the one who'd say that."

Zella walked along the sidewalk with Link beside her, houses lined up on both sides of the road. "Is that so? I thought you'd like the idea too."

"I do. I just didn't know you like travelling too."

She smiled. "The first time I met you, I had you pegged as one, to be honest. But imagine seeing the temples, the cities, the forests…" Someday, it'll happen. Wait for it.

"Just the two of us?"

She nodded, weaving her fingers through his. "I'd like that."

Far away in front of them on the same sidewalk was Lombardi wide-eyed, staring at O'Donnell. "No way. You can't seriously think _that's_ the root cause of everything."

"We're not on _Transparent Mode_ , right?"

"No, but still…"

O'Donnell stole a glance at the sidewalk at the opposite end of the road. Naia was there ambling past the houses by herself, suitcase in hand. The neighbourhood the trio lived in. He still couldn't believe Lombardi hadn't seen the answer yet. A rookie to the end, O'Donnell thought.

"Boss, ya mind explaining to me what's going on?"

"Be patient. It's almost here."

Link and Zella continued walking towards them, Naia still a ways away from them, when right then, a Pikachu crawled out from between two houses beside O'Donnell and Lombardi. It glanced around, soon spotting a tree near Naia.

"Do you recognise where we are, Lombardi?"

"In the town Link lived in."

"And?" He slowly walked towards the Pikachu, footsteps as quiet as possible.

"Before Link got the hat."

"Geezus, look!" His voice boomed enough to make the Pikachu jump up and squeak. He cursed under his breath as he ran to it and swooped it off the ground into his arms. It struggled, but he held it tight. "This is the memory when this Pikachu got stuck in the tree."

Soon, Link and Zella walked past them, never noticing Naia on the other side of the road.

O'Donnell headed towards the closest houses and released the Pikachu, who quickly scurried out of sight. Then he looked at Lombardi. "And this is also when the three of them first met."

"Wait, how would you know that? I wouldn't have thought that at the time."

"They didn't sound as close when we first saw them."

"And the rat?"

"Like I said, nothing happens by coincidence. It's easier to severe attachments where they are the weakest, or in this case," he glanced over to where the Pikachu scurried off before his gaze shifted towards Naia, "prevent them from ever happening in the first place."

Immediately, the thought of Zella's conversation with Link at the lake came into mind.

_"Lilacs mean 'first love,' you know."_

Lombardi's eyes widened. "So the root of it all—"

"Now you get it? It's never that simple. Even the smallest of events can cause the biggest differences."

_"And who did you learn that from?"_

Lombardi scoffed. "It's not like you've bothered to tell me before whenever we've been partnered up."

"You're right. That was my mistake. Think you'll be fine without me when I retire?"

"Hah, who do you think I am?"

_"You already know who."_

Then Lombardi smirked. "I learned from the best old man in the business."

O'Donnell smiled as he looked over to where Naia was walking away, her figure slowly blurring. "Lock this memory and change everybody's names, will you? With a different name for each person, Link's old memories won't try to resurface."

"All right, I can do that. Going live in three…"

_"Come on, I want you to tell me."_

"Two…"

_"It's easy."_

"One…"

_"Tell me anyway."_

The same moment Lombardi pressed the button, Naia was long gone.

_"It's Naia, of course!"_

And her figure had blurred completely.


	10. New Beginnings

O'Donnell opened his eyes, vision blurry, but starting to clear up. Soon he could see the beige walls of Link's house. He was finally back to the present and out of Link's memories. His muscles felt sore, his bones cracking a little, as he shook off his arms and pulled off the wires that were attached to his head from the TD. Then he heard Lombardi groan from beside him, who was also taking wires out of himself as well. He stared at the ring tied to his wrist, slowly unraveling the fish string off of him.

Maybe it was time to let go after all.

He stuffed the string and ring into his pocket as he turned towards Lombardi.

"My wife."

"Huh?" Lombardi's voice still sounded groggy.

"You were asking about my ring before."

He scratched his head for a bit when his eyes widened. "Wait, are you actually going to tell me?"

O'Donnell nodded.

"Wow." Rubbing the back of his neck, he asked: "How long have you had the ring for?"

"For as long as I can remember."

"Long time, I guess. Whether it was a divorce or a tragedy, I doubt she'd want you to restrain yourself to what once was there. Like you said before, everything's moving faster as time moves on, so don't let the world leave you behind."

"Your girlfriend again?"

Lombardi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Now what makes you think that she's the only one who gives life advice? That was all from yours truly."

He chuckled. "Maybe you're not so clueless of a partner after all."

"Why, thank you, Warren." It was followed by a mock bow.

"Did you just call me—"

"Yes, I did, and I hated every second of it. It doesn't suit you."

"Like all of your outfits and your blue hair. I hate that too."

"Shut up." He jabbed a finger at O'Donnell's chest. "And you better come by the office with mah paycheck. If you don't, I'll never let you retire."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you have to remind me _every_ single time?"

Then the two walked out of Link's door as O'Donnell closed it behind him, leaving the body of a sleeping man alone on the bed near it. The man smiled to himself, his chest rising up and down from his breathing until it slowly came to a stop, never moving again.

* * *

The whistle of passing bullet trains echoed inside the train station Link had been walking in, pulling along two suitcases as he headed towards the stone clocktower that stood in the centre of the area. Stopping, he looked up at the time. 2:11. Outside must've still been dark out, but it wasn't as if his ride was going to wait.

"Link, I got the tickets!" he heard a voice yell out to him.

He turned around to see a blonde woman in a purple cardigan running up to him, two tickets in her hand and a gold wedding band around her finger, one that matched the ring on his own finger.

She stepped up in front of him, shoving the tickets into his pocket. "Hold onto these for me while I head to the washroom."

"But what about the—?" But she had already ran off before he could finish. What was he going to do with her? He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Every time he did that, he couldn't help but feel like there was something on his head even though there was nothing there.

Then he smelled a light scent of flowers wafting in the air. He took a step back and turned around. But then he accidentally bumped into woman. Both of them stumbled forward.

Link gasped, noticing something falling out of the woman's purse. "I am so sorry about that, ma'am. Here, lemme get that for you." Bending down, he picked up a green hat—handmade, judging from its uneven stitches. It looked familiar for some reason. Strangest hat he'd ever seen. He handed it to her, finally noticing the woman's pink coat and then her brown hair.

She gave him a light nod, mouthing _Thank you_ as well. Then she turned around and walked away before he could say anything else.

Soon he heard footsteps from behind him, turning to see who it was.

His wife. His one and only.

She smiled. "Ready to go?"

He considered stealing a glance at the woman he bumped into to see where she was, but he decided against it. "Yeah. I am. So where are we going this time, Zelda?"

"Somewhere you would recognise, a place we haven't gone back to in a while."

"Like where?"

"You already know where."

As Zelda and Link headed towards the ticket booth to their right, the woman in pink had been looking at them from a distance for a moment before staring back at the hat in her hands. Then someone tapped her shoulder.

"Nana, you coming?"

A man with disheveled, brown hair stood before her; she could see the small flower and the name _Popo_ she'd stitched on the collar of his blue coat. She nodded, and the two headed towards the ticket booth at the opposite end of station.

"Is that perfume you're wearing?" he said. "It's nice. What is it?"

She smiled as she used a hand to sign each letter.

...

...

...

_fin_.


End file.
